Vehement Displays of Affection
by Laury the Latrator
Summary: It was a routine night for Teresa Lisbon, until something went terribly wrong. Now she is left trying to maintain her usual fortitude while everyone around her is begging her to let go. She deflects them all, except for one very special man. Two-shot.
1. The Danger

Teresa sat at the bar, twisting the rim of her glass with a forlorn look on her face. The music pounded against her eardrums, begging her to join the thrashing mass at the center of the club. She tugged on the hem of her strapless top self-consciously and took another gulp of her drink. She felt completely out of her element but she wasn't going to let that stop her.

"Hey there gorgeous." A voice said and she swiveled on the stool to face him. White male, early thirties with an already receding hairline, clothes suggestive of middle class status, though his watch looked expensive, wearing what he obviously viewed as a charming smile. Lisbon grinned invitingly at him.

"Hey yourself." She replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"You here with anybody?" He asked, surveying her attire. She was modestly attractive, her black and white patterned top matching the black skinny jeans she wore, and her shiny silver flats peaked out from under the slightly flared cuffs. She bowed her head and spoke with obvious self-derision.

"Well, I was supposed to be. Either he's an hour late or I've been stood up." She could see his eyes light up.

"His loss." He said casually, holding out his hand. "Brian." She shook it with a beguiling look.

"Liz." He grinned and settled himself into the seat next to her.

"So whatcha drinking, Liz?"

"It's not him." Lisbon heard from her earpiece. She glanced out of the corner of her eye to see Patrick Jane shaking his head. He was standing several yards away, nearly hidden around the corner of the dark corridor that lead to the bathroom and the rear exit. His voice crackled again in her ear. "He moved on far too fast, plus he hasn't got the nerve to brutally attack three women." He also didn't have the right build, Lisbon thought to herself, comparing his rather soft physique to the shadowy figure on the club's surveillance tapes. Suddenly she moved anxiously for her phone.

"You know what, he probably is just running late." She said with feigned optimism. "I'm sure he'll be here any minute." She could see Brian's hope of getting lucky plummet.

"Oh. I could wait with you until he gets here, if you want." She smiled thinly at him.

"No, I wouldn't want to seem like I'm cheating on him. He can be kind of rough when he feels insecure." That got poor Brian running. Lisbon took another sip to hide her satisfied expression.

"Ha!" She heard Jane mutter. "Lisbon you have a unrivaled way with rejection."

"Thanks." She whispered in reply, speaking towards the long dangle earring in her right ear, right under the earpiece. "Cho?"

"No sign." Her agent reported from the club's entrance.

"Nothing here either, boss." Rigsby chimed in from the alley behind them. "Just a whole lot of trash. We've been here for hours, maybe he's not coming tonight."

Taking care to appear as if muttering to herself, she replied, "He hasn't shown yet, Liz, but there's still hope. Stick it out a bit longer."

"Got it." Cho answered for the team.

"I still don't see why I couldn't have been the bait." Van Pelt groused from the car where she sat watching the feed from the club's cameras.

"Because 'Lizzie' is more the killer's type." Jane replied suavely. "While you certainly could pull off the lovelorn look you are neither petite nor brunette. Besides, our fearless leader is always more inclined to put herself in danger rather than a subordinate."

"Shh!" Lisbon hissed discretely into the microphone.

"Hey, it's true." Mentally rolling her eyes, she finished her drink as the bartender approached.

"Need another?" He asked engagingly. She looked him over quickly. Cute, tall, mid or late twenties, simple outfit that showed off his muscles. She bat her eyelashes at him.

"Yes please, as long as it isn't any bother."

"No bother." He told her sweetly as he bent down to fetch it. "Just a ginger ale, right?"

"Yeah." He hummed from under the counter.

"Maybe you should try something stronger, you don't seem to be having a very good time."

"I've been holding off on the alcohol until my date gets here," She told him shyly, "But at this rate who knows when that's going to be." He straightened, holding the glass out, sympathy splashed across his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He said, with what appeared to be real sincerity. "That's really too bad, you don't deserve to be treated that way." Lisbon could practically hear Jane's interest being piqued.

"Reel him in." He ordered. Filing away her irritation for later, she leaned closer to the handsome bartender under the guise of taking her soda.

"I mean, I'd been on a date with him before." She told him. "He seemed nice enough. Charming, funny, intelligent, definitely attractive. We got on fine. I don't know what went wrong." She glanced down, giving him the out. "But you probably don't want to listen to my sob story. You've got work to do after all." Immediately he shook his head.

"No, don't worry about it. I'd love to talk." He gestured to someone at the other end of the club and came around the bar to sit next to her. "Please, feel free to let it out. Tell me more." Lisbon held out her hand.

"Proper introductions first. I'm Liz, Liz Van Pelt." She could hear snickers through her earpiece.

"Donny Garrett." He replied, shaking her hand.

"On it." She heard the real Van Pelt say, presumably looking him up.

"So," Donny said, "This guy, what's he like?" Lisbon leaned closer, putting a hand on his bicep.

"Well, he has blonde hair and a smile to make a woman go weak at the knees." She glanced over his shoulder to see Jane flash the same grin her way, gently teasing. "Always dresses smart, and acted like a real gentleman. Thought I'd won the lottery."

"Why Lisbon, I'm flattered."

Feeling the need to deflate his ego and tear down that smug tone of his, she continued, "But he was childish too, and so full of himself. I should've known he'd be unreliable, that man clearly had a screw loose." She could hear Rigsby's muffled laughter.

"There's no need to be harsh." Came the affronted rebuttal.

"He has to be crazy," Donny agreed, and he reached forward slowly. Lisbon held her breath but was relieved when he tucked her hair behind her left ear, the one free of the microphone and receiver. "…To have given you up." She smiled at him vaguely while her mind whirred. She was not the only one.

"Oh yeah, he's definitely the guy." Lisbon leaned her head on her hand in an attempt to mute their voices. She took a long gulp from her soda to cover her silence.

"Jane, how can you be sure?" Rigsby objected. "Maybe he's just into the boss."

"He's into her alright, but with just enough psychopathy to reconcile his messiah complex and deep seated urge for violence."

"Jane's right," Van Pelt joined in, "He's been arrested twice for domestic violence, and both of his then girlfriends were short and brunette."

"Tread lightly, Lisbon." Jane warned her seriously. She lowered her drink and looked at Donny, trying to project attraction instead of apprehension.

"The night's picking up already. Forget him, why don't you tell me about yourself instead?" Donny waved a hand dismissively.

"I'm nothing special, not like you." She scoffed at the compliment.

"I'm not exactly a gem." She told him. He leaned closer earnestly.

"No, no, you are! See that's the problem with women these days. Most men don't treat you right and you take it on yourselves. You don't realize that you're perfect, and you deserve someone who'll worship you like the goddess you are." Lisbon was surprised to find herself blushing. She could understand why the three victims had left with a complete stranger. Donny was incredibly… persuasive.

"That's…" She cleared her throat. "That's very sweet." He grinned at her. She raised her glass to her lips as she asked, "How is it you're still single?" His eyes darkened. The change nearly made her choke on her soda. Suddenly, knowing what he was capable of, he did not look so handsome.

"I'm a very passionate person. Sometimes people don't get that." His gaze flit over her, and it seemed foreboding now rather than appreciative. He took her nearly finished drink and placed it on the bar. Donny jerked his head towards the corridor to the exit where Jane was hiding. "Wanna get out of here?" He asked. Her stomach turned but she kept her smile in place. She stood and reached inside her purse but he stopped her. "Don't worry about paying, it's on the house." Donny held her hand and lead her to the hallway.

"Rigsby, watch out, they're coming our way." She heard Jane say and was startled when she saw him slip out from the shadows and move to the side. He glanced at her once and turned around, pulling out his phone and pretending to fiddle with it. Donny didn't notice him to her relief. They were almost to the door when she stumbled. She blinked rapidly as the hall began to swirl around her.

"W-wha…" She mumbled, feeling her center of gravity shift. She dropped her purse, finding herself wobbling towards the ground. Strong arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her up. Static crackled in her ear making her wince.

"Lisbon! Lisbon what's going on?" It was so loud, as if Jane were yelling, and it made her head pound. Or maybe that was the music. She struggled to lift her arm, managing to pull the earpiece out and letting it fall to the floor. She was just basking contentedly in the silence when, sooner than she could stop him, Donny bent down and kissed her. It was a bruising sort of kiss, one of taking, one that hurt. Lisbon mustered just enough motor control to break the kiss.

"No, no, no, I don't—" She was cut off as she felt herself shoved against the wall, the air being knocked out of her upon impact. She struggled to draw breath but it was as if her lungs were too exhausted to fully expand. Hazily she realized she was being hoisted up, feet dangling off the floor, pinned against the wall by the tall shadow before her. The indistinct mass, the monster, was biting her throat. Sounds, frantic voices, chaotic noise filled the air. She fought the fatigue to raise her hands, pushing against the figure with all her might. It worked halfway. His head reared back, yet he still kept her in place with his body. She saw his face as if through smoke. His eyes were burning, his teeth were bared like fangs, and there was nothing natural in his expression. Lisbon saw his fist coming at her in slow motion. It looked so familiar. She closed her eyes.

She gasped, sitting bolt upright. Her gaze moved frantically around the room. Wires, tubes, monitors, chairs…

"Cho!" She exclaimed and her second in command rushed to her side.

"Calm down boss, you're in a hospital." She flexed her hands, noting the heart monitor on one and the IV in the other.

"Yes, I see that." She grumbled impatiently. "What happened? Why am I here?" Cho watched her, concern barely discernible through his blank facade.

"What's the last thing you remember?" He asked instead. Lisbon felt her brain begin to move sluggishly through the fog.

"I was at the bar, no… I was walking with Donny the bartender, we passed Jane…" She shook her head. "That's not it either… he…" She stopped, memories of the assault flooding her. Her agent noticed her comprehension.

"There was GHB in your system. He slipped it in your soda with a chaser of alcohol."

"How much?" She asked, connecting the dots in her mind. "It had to be a lot to knock me out that quick."

"Over 5000 milligrams. He admitted to us in interrogation that he upped the dosage so he could spend more time with you." His implication was clear. Lisbon shuddered.

"We didn't find GHB in any of the other victims."

"That's because they were all found over a day after their deaths." She nodded her understanding.

"By that time the drug would have broken down. Donny did his research." Cho gave a short scoff. Or was it a chuckle?

"Yeah, the club did a seminar about date rape vigilance a few months back. It's what gave him the idea." She laughed softly and mirthlessly at the irony. She looked to the clock.

"It's been four hours. Where are the others?"

"Rigsby's at the station, helping the perp recover from a couple of nasty falls. Van Pelt was dealing with the club owner who caused a stink about us escorting his employee out through the dance floor. She's probably done by now. Jane is right outside. There's a one visitor at a time rule. Though technically visiting hours are over. We only managed to swing this because Jane argued that you needed police protection." She smiled at the lengths her friends would go to for her.

"It's late Cho. Well, actually it's early. Either way, you should get some sleep. I assume I'm being detained here over night?" He nodded.

"They need to monitor you in case of respiratory arrest."

"Go home." She told him firmly. "I'll be fine."

"Are you going to send Jane home?" He asked.

"Ha." She barked. "We both know he wouldn't listen. It's not like he'd be sleeping anyway. Go on." Cho walked to the door but hesitated before leaving.

"I'm sorry about what happened." He said flatly. She bit her lip.

"Forget it." She replied and her agent quickly left. She was barely alone for a minute before the door opened again.

"Lisbon, you're up." Jane said, a bright smile shining at her. She acknowledged him with a nod. He approached the side of her bed slowly, despite his cheerful countenance. "How are you feeling?"

"A little nauseous, but not so bad." She answered.

"You don't seem tired."

"No, actually I feel wide awake. That's one weird thing about GHB you know, after a couple of hours of extreme drowsiness and unconsciousness you do a complete 180." Jane nodded at the info, but it wasn't a good nod. She recognized it as the gesture he gave when a suspect or victim said something of importance. He had that look he got when he was piecing the puzzle together. Lisbon tilted her head. "What?"

"Hm?" He hummed as he looked up, and this was an expression she recognized too. He'd made some connection but was not in the mood to share it with her.

"Never mind." She muttered, glancing at her hands where they rested in her lap. She started picking at the tape holding the IV needle in place.

"Stop that." Jane chastised her. She did.

"Jane?" She asked timidly.

"Yes?"

"I didn't want to ask Cho," Lisbon began slowly, "He looked uncomfortable enough as it is." She heard him laugh.

"Really?" He countered skeptically.

"Shut up. He was. I can tell." He accepted this graciously and gave her a nod to continue. She looked away. "What happened? I couldn't really tell what was going on once the drug kicked in. I was lucid up until…" She trailed off, figuring he'd know where to start the story. He cleared his throat, drawing her gaze. She found herself really noticing his appearance for the first time. Jane looked haggard and drained. For a man who wore a multitude of masks, he stood bare, as if he hadn't the energy to devote to the deception.

"You were fine when you passed me. A little flushed but I put that down to the excessive flattery Garrett had given you. A couple seconds later I heard you moan. I looked around and saw you leaning on him. I asked you what was wrong, but it clearly caused you pain. You took out the earpiece but not the microphone." He drew a long breath. She realized what he was doing. He was giving her the facts, just the facts, and attempting to keep the emotions out of it. She wondered if he was doing it for himself or her. She appreciated it either way. "Garrett kissed you," He continued, glancing at her, "and you tried to back away. At that point I let the others know what was going on and the team rushed over. It took them a few minutes though. Cho had to get through the throng of people on the dance floor, Van Pelt was all the way in the car, and Rigsby had moved away from the alley so he wouldn't be spotted when you came outside, not that you got that far." He shook his head a little and got back on track. "You, er, mumbled no, repeatedly, but Garrett pushed you into the wall. Again you tried to stop him. Really it's remarkable how strong you were with all that crap in your system. He was about to punch you so…" Jane cut himself off. Lisbon, realizing something, raised a hand to her face. No swelling, no bruising, nothing.

"But he didn't hit me." She stated wondrously. "Someone stopped him." Looking up she noted his distinct embarrassment. "You?" She asked incredulously.

"Yeah, well," He started, a little defensively, "You weren't going to and no one else was there yet. I had to do something." Lisbon clamped down on her grin but he still caught it. "Yes, okay, I protected your honor," A snicker escaped at his phrasing, "Yuk it up."

"Sorry," She chuckled, "It's just funny to imagine you going up against Donny. You don't exactly like to get your hands dirty." Jane rubbed a hand over his knuckles absentmindedly.

"Can we move on?" He demanded shortly. She smiled wider but inclined her head. "I ran at him and barreled into his side, we fell down. You collapsed at that point. Luckily Rigsby showed up just as Garrett was getting his bearings back. The guys took him into custody and Van Pelt and I brought you here." He shrugged. "That's about it."

"Cho implied that somebody attacked—"

"—Best you don't hear those details, plausible deniability and all that." She grimaced but dropped it.

"What about in interrogation? What did Donny say?"

"I wasn't there, but I listened to the recording. He confessed to murdering all three women. He'd find them after their dates abandoned them. It was easy to get them talking, no one has any misgivings about baring their soul to a bartender. He'd slip the… the drugs in their drinks and offer them a place to lie down or just drag them out of the club. He… raped them while they were unconscious. When they'd wake up and freak out he… he'd beat them to death." Lisbon took note of his pauses. It seemed putting her assault and Donny's intentions for her into words was painful for him.

"What's your take on it?" She asked as a distraction. "It doesn't make a lot of sense to me. The way he was talking he didn't seem like a woman hater."

"No, in fact he's the polar opposite. He'd built up this image of the perfect woman, but he soon learned that this was unattainable."

"The domestic violence charges."

"Exactly. The only way a woman could measure up to his fantasy was to be unconscious. He viewed himself as their knight in shining armor and felt entitled to take what he wanted. Once they woke up and rejected him, shattering his illusion, he had no choice but to kill them." She closed her eyes in understanding.

"He only got violent with me when I said no."

"Yeah." He agreed softly. They stayed in silence for a moment. Lisbon resumed scratching at the tape on her hand. She looked up, watching the beat of her heart on the monitor until Jane caught her attention again. He was hovering indecisively by her bedside, rocking back and forth on his heels. He was teetering on the decision to speak. Though she realized he was probably hesitating because what he would say might upset her, she prompted him with an openly inquisitive look. "One more thing." He said, not meeting her gaze. "Why didn't you try to stop him?"

"W-what do you mean?" She sputtered. "I did, several times, I didn't want—"

"Sorry, bad wording." He said quickly, settling her with a wave of his hand. He glanced at her, and she was startled by the odd mixture of accusation and pity in his eyes. "I was watching you the entire time. When he was about to hit you, you saw it. You were more focused then than you'd been since the drug started affecting you." Jane was staring at her now, pointing at her sternly for emphasis. "You knew what was coming, of course you did. But you did nothing. No, actually, you did worse." Pity came to the forefront. "You closed your eyes and braced for it." Her mouth moved soundlessly for a moment.

"I didn't. I… I passed out."

"No." He countered adamantly. "You shut your eyes tightly and moved your head back so it rested against the wall. All your muscles tensed, impressive considering the effects of the drug." He paused, his intense gaze boring into her. "No, you were going to let him hit you. Why would you do that?" Lisbon sat up straighter, pursing her lips slightly and looking him dead in the eye.

"You're wrong." She said, in a tone that brokered no argument. Jane's shoulders visibly sagged. A small note of pride flared in her for stopping him in his tracks. Well, she'd already lied once. "I'm actually getting pretty tired, you should probably go." He watched her inscrutably for a minute. She met his probing look head on.

"Okay." He agreed simply, taking long strides to the door. "Sleep well." He tossed over his shoulder and then he was gone. She wondered how often they did that with each other: reading the other's reticence and deciding it wasn't worth the bother. As she lay down on her side and curled into a loose ball, Lisbon hoped it would eventually come to an end. All of it. She lay awake for a while, thinking about everything and nothing and waiting to see if he'd come back. She drifted slowly into sleep, the scuffle of shoes from the hospital hallway drawing her away to dreamland…

_Pinned, immobile, the hard wall against her back and the hot weight pressing into her front. She thrashed her limbs as best she could, but the mass reformed around every blow. There was too much pressure, closing in on her from all sides. She felt teeth and lips against her body, everywhere, too much. She screamed and screamed but no one could hear her, no one ever heard her. His face was suddenly visible, an amalgamation of everything evil, everything she fought against. He hissed and it sounded like 'Tess' and 'Liz'. Then there was pain, so much pain, everywhere pain, and how could she bear all that pain…_

"Lisbon! Wake up! Lisbon!" Her eyes snapped open, meeting blue. A face, so close to her own, and with the dream still vivid in her mind she sucked in a startled breath. Immediately it moved away and formed a familiar shape. Jane watched her, worry marring his expression. She realized his hands were clamped over her own, the medical equipment digging sharply into her skin. He loosened his hold as soon as she took notice. "You were hurting yourself." He told her, and she glanced down. Her hospital gown had ridden up and she could see superficial gash marks from her fingernails on her thighs. Self-conscious, she pulled her wrists free and covered herself. She averted her gaze, looking anywhere but at him. "Lisbon?" He asked gently, and she couldn't take his tenderness.

"Could I, uh… could you get me some water?" Jane nodded quickly and left. She could hear his footsteps moving hurriedly through the ward. She turned, back to the door, and shut her eyes. When he returned a few minutes later she feigned sleep. Maybe it worked, because she heard him place the cup on the night table and sit in one of the chairs with a sigh. Lisbon focused on keeping her breathing even, though his stillness was off-putting. After a moment she became aware of the softest of sounds coming from him. He was humming, a beautiful tune she recognized as a long lost lullaby. She could feel her body relax under his soothing song. Without realizing it, she let Jane lull her into sweet dreamless slumber.

* * *

><p><strong>A new Mentalist fic! Wow, I'm on a roll.<strong>

**This was originally a one-shot but it grew too long, so I'll be posting the next installment next Sunday. It's going to center on the team and the aftermath of the assault. There will be a little Jisbon love, but I have to warn you, they will not magically end up together by the end of it. I couldn't honestly write that, it would take more than another dangerous situation to solve all of their problems. But still, baby steps.**

**I couldn't find consistent information about the dosage of GHB, and I fudged some of the symptoms to heighten the drama. I usually dislike taking artistic license with scientific facts, but it was unavoidable here. Now I'm going to turn this over to Agent Lisbon for a PSA:**

**Lisbon: Do not leave drinks unattended. Do not consume drinks if you don't know where they came from. Do not accept open topped drinks from strangers or acquaintances. It may seem rude to refuse, but so is passing out in the middle of a conversation. If you believe that you have been assaulted in this manner, please contact your local precinct. Because these drugs can dissapate rapidly it is important to insist on a blood test as soon as possible. And don't forget the most prevelent date rape drug of all: alcohol. Be smart people.**

**Thank you Lisbon, that was very informative. I'll see you all again next week!**

**Love,**

**Laury the Latrator**


	2. The Aftermath

** Okay guys, I feel bad about this. I meant to upload this last night but I got so wrapped up in my next Mentalist fic that I completely forgot. Anyway, here it is, the recovery.**

* * *

><p>"Boss!" She glanced up at the gleeful greeting. Grace danced into the room, beaming in that upbeat way Lisbon often envied. She reciprocated, though her smile was notably dimmer. "You look great! How do you feel?"<p>

"Fine." She answered with an easy shrug. "The overnight stay was pretty much a technicality, the doctor pronounced me fit so I'm free to go." She gestured to the forms she was in the process of signing. "I was just finishing the release papers." Her young agent's grin seemed to grow in intensity, though that hardly seemed possible.

"That's wonderful, I'm so relieved. I'm sure you'd like to get home ASAP. I'm here to drive you." Lisbon wondered fleetingly why Jane hadn't volunteered, but immediately pushed it away. It didn't matter.

"What about the case? Has Cho processed Donny already?" Van Pelt must've anticipated her desire to return to work because she took on a sort of patiently exasperated tone that didn't suit her.

"Yes, Cho and Rigsby filled out the reports last night, it's all taken care of. And you've been given a mandatory sick day. If we see you in the CBI building we're instructed to escort you out. I have been permitted to use force if you refuse to go home. Now, gather your personal effects and let's hit the road." She blinked at the redhead.

"Okay." She replied, somewhat dumbfounded and wary of this new hard-ass attitude. Hesitantly she grabbed her purse and slipped her shoes on. Van Pelt reverted to her previous cheerfulness.

"Great!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly. Lisbon walked out of the room, her agent hot on her heels. "So…" Grace began once they were free of the hospital, making their way through the parking lot. She'd lost her smile. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"No." Lisbon responded quickly and firmly. She pulled the car door out violently and flopped into the passenger seat with arms crossed. Van Pelt entered the car a moment later, bringing the engine to life.

"Are you at least going to see the CBI therapist?"

"It's only required after a shooting. It's merely recommended for other types of assault."

"That's a no then." At her silence Grace sighed, keeping her eyes on the street. "Look boss, I know you don't like feeling…" She inhaled deeply, bracingly, "…weak, but this was a really scary thing. It's okay to need help."

"I know that," She retorted irritably, "but I'm really fine. I've been through worse."

"I know, boss, I do, but…" Lisbon watched the other woman's hands tighten on the wheel. "It was hard enough to listen to, I can't imagine experiencing it." Her ears seemed to fill with a low buzzing. Right, Jane'd mentioned, she hadn't taken out the microphone.

"How much did you guys hear?" She asked with a knot of dread coiled in her stomach. Van Pelt bat at the corner of her eye.

"That transmitter was very sensitive." She admitted softly. Lisbon's hazy memory conjured smacking noises against her neck, low guttural sounds of his perverse lust, the moans she'd emitted begging him to stop. She shuddered. "And, uh…" Her agent hesitated, appearing to gather strength. "I caught the beginning on tape. One of the cameras inside the club pointed towards the bathrooms. I saw him push you and—"

"—It happened, it's over." She interrupted harshly. "There's nothing to discuss." Van Pelt nodded meekly and the two spent the rest of the ride in silence. When they finally reached her place Lisbon let her in with only a quick apology for the mess. Of course there wasn't really much mess, it barely qualified as lived in. Van Pelt headed straight for her kitchen as Lisbon flopped onto her sofa, wincing a little as she did. The short burst of pain dimmed and she relished the comfort for a moment before sitting up.

"You don't have much in the way of food." Grace called, head presumably buried in her sparsely filled cabinets.

"I usually order in." She admitted with a soft embarrassed chuckle. Her agent rejoined her in the living room though she remained standing.

"I'll send Cho by with lunch later." Lisbon shook her head.

"That's sweet but you really don't have to." Van Pelt put her hands on her hips.

"Boss, can't you let us take care of you for one day? Just one day?" Lisbon sighed at her friend's earnest expression. "Please?" She closed her eyes.

"If it will make you feel better." She finally consented. She imagined she could see Van Pelt brighten, seeming to glow enough to seep through her eyelids. True enough, when she opened them her grin was blinding.

"Awesome! I have to get back so I'll leave you to settle in." Van Pelt paused, licking her lips. "I'm so glad you're okay." She blurted out, as if the effort of containing the sentiment had been weighing on her all morning. "I know you don't like gushy touchy-feely stuff but I don't know what we'd do without you 'cause we love you so much and—" In two strides Grace had crossed the room and gathered her shell-shocked boss in a tight hug. Lisbon heard sniffles coming from her shoulder and awkwardly pat her on the back. Van Pelt's mood swings were getting increasingly worrisome. The poor girl never was very good at holding in her empathy. "Sorry, sorry," She mumbled as she pulled away, wiping her cheeks.

"It's okay." Lisbon answered stiffly. She tried to smile consolingly but probably didn't pull it off. Van Pelt breathed in deeply.

"I'll let you rest." She announced wetly, turning towards the door. Lisbon followed her, giving her a parting smile and locking the door behind her. She leaned against it and took a deep breath. Turning, she headed for the room she'd been longing for since waking up at the hospital.

In the harsh light of her bathroom, Lisbon stared at herself in the full length mirror. Her reflection encouraged her silently. Slowly, she removed layer after layer until she stood bare. Bracing herself, she swept her eyes over her image. Welts stood out against her neck, a macabre mimicry of a hickey. Finger length marks splayed over her hips, with scratches and crescent shaped cuts littering her abdomen where her top must've been pushed up. On her thighs she could still make out the faint self-inflicted scratch lines from the night before. She turned, looking over her shoulder to carefully survey the damage on her back. Deep purple bruises lay along her shoulder blades and a small bluish-green one stood out on her tailbone. The back of her head seemed to have specks of dried blood tangled in her hair. She committed every single blemish to memory. With a shaky exhale, Lisbon stepped into the shower.

It took her over an hour. When she eventually got out, her skin was red and irritated and she still didn't feel clean. She dressed in loose sweatpants and one of the rare turtleneck sweaters in her drawer. She settled herself onto the couch and pulled a throw over lap. Clicking the remote, she settled in to watch some pleasantly numbing television.

It was sometime around noon when she was forced to move, a show about a pregnant Bengal Tiger drawing to a close. She was just debating whether or not to venture to her kitchen for chips when a knock sounded against her door. Standing, Lisbon opened it to see her second in command bearing the spoils of a take out run. She grinned.

"My hero." She said, beckoning him inside. Cho walked in with his usual commanding attitude, setting the boxes on her coffee table. He glanced at the TV where the sight of a heavily pregnant two-humped camel caught his attention.

"Now that just ain't right." He remarked. Lisbon laughed, grabbing forks and joining him on the sofa.

"Sorry, daytime programming is crap." She shut it off and fixed him with a hopeful yet restrained look. "You have time to share this with me?" He nodded and flipped open a container of orange chicken. Smiling to herself, she dug in as well, savoring the tangy flavor from her favorite Chinese place.

"How are you doing?" Cho asked simply. In light of his delicious offering, she decided to answer him more honestly than she had anyone before.

"I'm not bad, a little sore. Donny banged me up a bit." She shot him a piercing glare. "I assume you guys gave him worse though." He met her eyes with his own impenetrable gaze.

"Probably." Shaking her head, she returned to her meal.

"How are things at the office?" She asked, slurping some sauce off her lip. She was glad he paid the unladylike move no mind.

"Pretty slow. Yesterday we got some heat about how the play turned out, but it was eventually agreed that without all the information we couldn't have planned anything better. Things've died down. No calls or anything, we're just working through the backlog of old forms." She hummed in response.

"Jane giving you a hard time? The boredom must be killing him."

"Jane's not in today." Lisbon looked up. He kept his focus on the food.

"What?"

"He was given the day off too." Cho answered, his tone completely and frustratingly level.

"Why?" She blinked at him in puzzlement. "He wasn't hurt… was he?"

"No." He turned to her then, his gaze unusually probing, the sort of scrutiny he'd give a suspect. She stared back, openly curious and concerned. Finally he sighed a little. "I guess the upper management didn't want to deal with him without your calming influence." That drew a startled laugh from her.

"'Calming'? Cute, Kimball. I doubt anything could calm the chaos that is Jane." The corners of his mouth turned up. Victory. The rest of lunch passed mostly in companionable silence, with only short exchanges of food related compliments. Eventually when they'd had their fill, he stood and graciously cleaned up despite her protests, tucking the leftovers into her fridge. When he came back he paused before her.

"You're really okay?" He asked. She fiddled with her hands clasped in her lap.

"Van Pelt tells me you heard everything." Lisbon said instead. He nodded curtly. "It must've been frightening. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." Cho cut across her quickly. "She shouldn't have told you that."

"Well don't you blame her." She insisted. "You know how she is, she cares too much. I was honestly more worried about her, she didn't seem to be handling it too well."

"He said you'd do that."

"Who?" He didn't reply, but she had a hunch. "Cho…" She started softly, "Tell me about it. I was already hazy, I didn't hear you guys coming." He shifted his weight slightly, his only tell. "Please?" That did it.

"Rigsby was cursing up a storm. Van Pelt was muttering 'oh my god' over and over. I was pushing through the dancers so people were shouting at me. I got close enough to see the hallway at one point. Jane was obviously conflicted between running to you and hanging back for self-preservation. I tried to tell him to wait—"

"As you should have, he doesn't have a gun or any sort of training, I don't care what danger I was in, you don't ever—"

"I know boss." He interrupted. "But he didn't listen. As I neared the edge of the crowd I saw him sprint into the hall. I got there just in time to catch you as you fainted."

"Uh-uh, I didn't faint," She clarified hurriedly, "I passed out. There's a difference."

"Sure." He said, with only a thin trace of sarcasm. Lisbon smiled softly up at him.

"Thanks for telling me. What I remember is bad enough, I don't like this block of missing time."

"I understand." Cho shuffled a little. "You should know, none of that's in the report." Her head tilted inquisitively.

"You lied?" She reprimanded mildly.

"No. Garrett was charged for the murders and for assaulting you. We didn't give details and we didn't mention his intentions."

"I suppose I ought to thank you," She told him, "But don't ever lie for me again. You should think of yourself first."

"Right." He responded, and Lisbon could hear the lie in his voice. She smiled again, moved despite disapproving of her friend's loyalty. Cho noted her pleasure, his features softening almost imperceptibly, and headed for the door. "I'll send Rigsby over for dinner." He called.

"I can fend for myself." She asserted, her grin turning playful. He shrugged.

"Yeah, but it's his turn." She chuckled and waved him off. With the hint of a smile in return, he left. Lisbon sat in thought for a moment before grabbing her phone. She typed out a message to a familiar number.

To: Jane

_I've run out of things to do._

She turned the TV back on, watching with disinterest as some zookeeper nursed a baby penguin from a bottle. A ding sounded from her cell and she reached eagerly for it.

To: Lisbon

_You're intelligent, you'll think of something._

She smiled at the compliment. Feeling childish, she wrote back:

To: Jane

_Entertain me._

It took several minutes for him to respond, so much so that she was left to stare in disgust as the penguin vomited into a bucket, the zookeeper rubbing its back like a mother. Shuddering, she was relieved when he finally got back to her.

To: Lisbon

_I'm afraid I'm busy at the moment, maybe later._

Unease growing, she quickly replied.

To: Jane

_What are you up to?_

To: Lisbon

_Nothing you have to clean up, I assure you._

She frowned at the old words used in a flippant way. After deliberating for a few seconds she typed back:

To: Jane

_Why'd you get sent home?_

Another few minutes went by, and this time she didn't even bother looking away from her phone. There was no one around to appreciate the charade.

To: Lisbon

_Why can't you be satisfied with whatever Cho told you?_

She'd already written "How did you" before common sense caught up with her.

To: Jane

_He deflected just like you are._

To: Lisbon

_It's not important. You should be resting, not arguing with me over text._

Feeling put out for some undefinable reason, she hurriedly wrote back.

To: Jane

_Right, I'll let you get back to your busy schedule._

She tossed her phone onto the couch beside her, sinking back into the cushions in an undeniable sulk. Annoyed by the epic of the fledgling penguin, she flipped mindlessly through the channels, finding fault with every program. It was so long until she heard a ding that she'd assumed he'd given up on their conversation like she had. Curious, she read the display.

To: Lisbon

_I'm really glad you're not dead._

Lisbon blinked at the unexpected message. Thrown for a loop, she had no idea how to respond. Maybe that was his plan. Setting it more gently onto her coffee table, she curled up under her blanket, gazing unseeingly at the television. Slowly, she drifted uneasily into sleep.

She woke gradually, rubbing her eyes. Checking the clock, she was glad to see that less than an hour had passed. There was still several hours until Rigsby would be over with dinner, plenty of time to kill. She mulled over her options. She always seemed to face this dilemma on her days off. Deciding that, since TV was out of the question, and as she didn't feel up to cleaning anything, she would check out those books she'd really been meaning to read, she headed for her neglected bookshelf.

Lisbon was nearing the conclusion of a spy thriller (not a particularly good thriller at that) when the doorbell rang. Trust Rigsby to actually notice the tiny button and do the polite thing. Putting down the book, somewhat relieved she wouldn't have to immediately suffer through the contrived ending, she stood. Opening it, she smiled gently at her agent's obviously hesitant and embarrassed countenance. He'd only ever seen her home when something was terribly wrong or he was being chastised.

"Come on in, Rigsby, I assume there's enough for two?" He nodded as he stepped over the threshold. "Typical," She muttered good-naturedly as she locked it behind him, "You guys always get so clingy after something like this."

"Well, what's a near death experience between friends?" He joked, setting the food on her table and pulling out boxes from her favorite Italian place. The sight of the logo took her aback for a moment; she didn't think the team knew about her love of _Luigi's_. Then his remark caught up to her.

"Don't exaggerate, Donny wasn't about to kill me." She said, walking towards him and taking her place on the couch. Rigsby shot her a glance.

"Yeah but that level of GHB, for your size? It was touch and go there for a bit." Her head tilted as she pondered this. No one had mentioned that. He didn't seem to notice her stunned silence. "Anyway, I've got chicken parmesan, a four cheese pasta, and some side veggies. And for desert there's a pastry from _Marie's_, some kinda marble cake." Lisbon smiled, picking up one of the plastic forks that came with the meal.

"These are some of my favorite indulgences, how'd you know?" He sat across from her on the floor, giving her a look that said she should have known better.

"Jane of course. He called me with the suggestion not too long ago." She shook her head at the absent consultant. His ability to brush her off and still manage to control her life was astonishing.

"That man is infuriating sometimes." Rigsby scooped up a large helping of pasta, stuffing it in his mouth and speaking around it.

"But he's good at what he does." It was a fair point, despite the disgusting delivery, so she dropped the subject with a nod. They ate in companionable quiet.

"You know I'm okay, right?" She asked after a while. "You guys really don't have to make a fuss. I can take care of myself." He sighed; apparently he'd been warned of her resistance.

"Boss… maybe you're not the one we're doing this for. Maybe we need to look after you for a bit, for ourselves. We want to spend time with you. We… have to." She blinked uncertainly at the depth from her gangly and somewhat unrefined agent. She wondered if he'd prepared that beforehand, or if someone had coached him.

"Is this… is this because you guys couldn't get to me fast enough? Some sort of guilt thing?" Rigsby sighed again, putting his fork down.

"No, not really. I mean… yeah, okay, we're kicking ourselves for letting him get so far. We hate that he got you and we couldn't stop him fast enough, but it's all because we care about you. We want you to be safe and well."

"I am safe." She insisted, leaning forward. He matched her position.

"Yeah, but you're hurt. That bastard would've killed you, and… other stuff."

"But he didn't get away with it, and you guys certainly payed him back." That made Rigsby's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Wait, what?" Lisbon looked away.

"Cho implied that you guys roughed Donny up in retaliation." He sat back, apparently staggered.

"He said I did that?" She paused. No, he hadn't, no one had told her the circumstances or who was involved. She'd assumed Rigsby had participated because, let's face it, he was simply the one most likely to use excessive force. And he had an intense sense of loyalty to the women in his life, including her.

"He clammed up. I thought…"

"Cho and I didn't do anything to him." He told her, adamant yet puzzled. "I mean, sure, I wasn't exactly gentle when we escorted him off the premises and into the van, but I didn't beat him up, that was all—" He cut himself off, realization in his expression.

Thoroughly frustrated and confused from all the lies, she snapped, "Who? Who attacked Donny?" He returned his attention to the food, sheepish, worried, and reticent.

"If they didn't tell you, then I really shouldn't—"

"Rigsby," She interrupted with her commanding and authoritative tone, "I am ordering you to tell me, now who was it?" He shifted uncomfortably and hemmed and hawed for a few moments. Her glare intensified, forcing him into speech.

"It was Jane." Lisbon froze in shock. Her lips moved soundlessly. When she could form words her voice came out as a whisper.

"W-what?" That couldn't be right. That didn't make any sense. Jane didn't do things like that. It wasn't like him.

"Yeah." Rigsby continued, completely resigned to selling out his friend. "By the time I got there Jane was on top of the guy, pinning him down and bashing his head into the floor repeatedly. Cho was already there but he was trying to hold you up and checking for a pulse so he couldn't stop him. I pulled Jane off him and… he looked crazy. Like… Red John crazy." She shook her head, denying his story. It couldn't be true. "Garrett was too dazed to put up a fight. The doctors said he got a concussion. The incident report doesn't say exactly what happened. We said that he got the concussion after Jane tackled him to the ground, but we didn't tell them about his… outburst."

"Why— why did he— why would—" Lisbon felt her breathing quicken into shallow gasps and a faint tremor running under her skin. She stood hurriedly, pacing agitatedly in front of him as her brain struggled to make sense of it. Rigsby rubbed his face wearily, obviously moved by her distress.

"Those guys should really tell me when they plan to lie to you." She heard him mutter. She rounded on him then.

"What happened, exactly, after you got a hold of Jane?" He stood, approaching her cautiously with his hands outstretched, as if nearing a rabid tiger. She imagined she looked no less wild.

"Boss, maybe you should sit down, drink some water, try and calm—"

"Wayne," She began, holding her finger up to his face threateningly, "Talk. Now. Or I get one of my guns." His impressive stature sank in defeat.

"He didn't say anything. He sort of… stared at the guy for a while. Garrett was woozy and couldn't really stand right. I was just holding him up, I barely remembered to cuff him. I didn't know what to do, we'd never seen him like that. He didn't move until Cho got his attention. He said Jane had to take you to a hospital, that you really needed him to do that for you. Jane kinda nodded and walked over to you. He looked like a zombie. Grace helped him lift you and then… Jane and Cho shared this weird look. It was like they were speaking telepathically or something. Now I guess they were agreeing not to tell you anything of this." Lisbon exhaled shakily, then snaked around him to grab her coat and her keys. Rigsby followed her worriedly. "Where are you going?"

"To talk to Jane." She said shortly, grabbing his arm and pulling him with her out of the apartment.

"Boss, I-I'm not sure if that's such a-a good idea." He stammered as she locked the door.

"I don't care what you think!" She snapped. Regretting it a second later, she added, "Not right now. I have to see him. You understand." He nodded acceptingly and the two made their way to the parking lot, her agent's lanky legs allowing him to keep up with her frenzied pace.

"For the record," He said as they stopped, parting ways by her car, "I would've done the same thing if it was Grace." She blinked at his subtle implication. Rigsby glanced down, slightly sheepish. "Although I have to admit, I'd've gladly punched out Garrett myself if I had the chance."

Sighing and hating herself for being touched, she replied, "I know." She got in her car, driving off and watching him wave in the rearview mirror.

Lisbon drove, the silence allowing her to think. She needed a plan of attack. Jane could slither out of any emotional conversation he wanted to. But she needed answers, she was tired of the lies. She sighed, her mind coming up with little that was useful. It was disheartening to arrive at the extended stay hotel without a strategy, but she took it in stride. As she slammed the door shut, she thought she saw the curtains of his room shift. Narrowing her eyes at the window, she made the climb up the stairs. As she reached his landing, Jane stepped out to meet her, wary yet with a smile. His eyes surveyed her outfit, lingering on her covered neck. She tried not to acknowledge it.

"Lisbon, what a pleasant and unexpected surprise." He greeted, and she was proud that he sounded so heedful of upsetting her. She gave a thin smile in reply, noting how he saw through it, his unease increasing.

"May I come in." He hesitated and her grin widened.

"Sure." He said, holding the door open for her. She passed him and swiftly turned as he entered.

"Talk." She demanded. Understanding her directive, his chin dropped to his chest, a regretful little smirk playing on his lips.

"Rigsby." He surmised, moving to sit on his bed. Lisbon strode to the door, locking it firmly. "Ooh, bold." He mocked quietly, not looking at her. She faced him, doing her best to keep her fists unclenched.

"Jane, I have had it with my team lying to me. Ever since I woke up people have fed me crap! I am done with it. Now you are going to give me some answers."

"Why's this so important to you?" He asked. She knew he'd do that, he always directed attention on someone else when he was uncomfortable. She crossed her arms.

"Why is it important that people I thought were my friends decided to keep key details of my assault from me? Gee, that's a toughie."

"Do you really have to be in control all the time that you need to know every single thing that happened during your black out just so your personal history remains intact?"

"You want to talk to me about control issues! No," She shook her head firmly, "You know what, I'm not doing this with you." Jane moved as if to stand, stretching exaggeratedly.

"Good, nice talk Lisbon, see you at work—"

"—Shut up." He sat back down, rolling his head. She tried to reorder her thoughts. "Cho said the dose was over 5000 milligrams, but it had to be more if I nearly overdosed."

"Ah, Rigsby let that slip as well." He closed his eyes. "Yes, it was more. When we got you to the hospital your lips were turning blue. For about half an hour you were in the ICU hooked up to oxygen. They wouldn't let us in…" He hastily cleared his throat, casting her a swift glance. "Technically though Cho didn't lie. It was _over_ 5000, over being the operative word." He beamed up innocently at her icy exterior. Lisbon considered her next question carefully.

"Why did you avoid me earlier? You had the day off, there are no open cases, what could you have been busy with?" Jane scoffed, turning his body away from her. "Come on," She insisted, "You pester me all the time! I give you an opening to show off and interact with me outside of work and you suddenly don't want to? You don't see how that's odd?" His head snapped around, eyes thin and cold.

"Maybe I was giving you the space you're always begging for." He replied in a clipped tone. She sneered.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Bull." She said, advancing slowly toward the bed. "You were scared. I got hurt, you felt bad, and in your ever continuing flee from intimacy you ran." He stood, stepping closer so his extra few inches seemed to tower over her. She stared back at him defiantly.

"We're talking about intimacy now? Fine. Why don't you ask the question you've been putting off since you came here." He dared her. "You're dying to know but you're so frightened of the answer. Imagine that, the great Saint Teresa, downright terrified of little old me. What will it be, Senior Special Agent?" They watched each other carefully for a moment, their slightly heavy breathing mixed in the air between them. Softly she broke the silence.

"Why did you attack that man? I've never seen you resort to physical violence."

"I couldn't very well talk him out of his lust induced rage. You were far too appetizing a treat."

"Shut up you arrogant ass and be serious for once in your life." Jane smiled, but it was nowhere near his usual grin. This was an ironic twist of lips, almost a grimace.

"He was hurting you." He answered simply.

"I've been hurt before."

"Exactly." He breathed.

"You don't react like that, not normally."

"This wasn't normal." Her head tilted.

"How so?" She asked. He sighed and she felt it against her face. She shivered lightly at the sensation.

"You weren't you." At her clear confusion, he continued, "The Teresa Lisbon I know does not let a man strike her in the face." She tensed instantly, as he'd probably planned on, her stance turning defensive.

"I told you I wasn't—"

"Bull." He parroted, those sea blue eyes boring into her forest green. Maybe he was hypnotizing her, because she couldn't refute him. "I read people, you know that, and more importantly I know you. I've been reading you for years. I saw you when he raised his fist, I knew what you would do —or rather, wouldn't do. I couldn't stand back and watch that happen." His forceful exterior melted into a pleading empathy that Lisbon was naturally distrustful of. "Why would you let him hit you?"

"You already know." She whispered resentfully.

"You don't get it!" He exclaimed, but he quickly reined himself in. "I don't just want to know things, I want you to tell me." She blinked rapidly.

"Fine." She muttered with a tight shrug. "With the drugs in my system, I reverted."

"To a child." He clarified. "To the little girl fielding punches from her father." She glared at him for his phrasing but said nothing. He hummed, like this was a new relevant piece of information to some major case. "Tell me, how long did it take to stop freezing like that? It must not've been good in the police academy."

"Stop it." She ordered, and he nodded, recognizing the line she drew.

"You're right, not the time." They stood there together for a while, shifting uncertainly, not meeting the other's eye.

"I still don't understand." She told him stiffly. "You were still hurting him after I was already safe. Rigsby said you were banging Donny's head against the floor. That takes a lot of rage." Jane fidgeted uncomfortably, letting her know she was on track. "You don't usually lose control like that, not unless it involves, well… _him_."

"True." He muttered, looking to the floor.

"It's not like you, so where did all that emotion come from?" She asked, some part of her dreading his answer. He must've sensed her inner conflict because he pinned her with his probing gaze. It was a long time before he responded.

"Don't be so surprised." He said, almost tenderly. "You're really the only one I have left to care about in this world."

"That's not true." She denied immediately. "You have the team." He inclined his head graciously at her rebuttal.

"Yes, but it's a different sort of caring. I'm not sure I would kill for them, and I know I wouldn't die for them." Jane said the last part with his eyes staring into hers, his face open and earnest and more believable than she could ever recall. She realized with a jolt that it was intentional. He'd lowered his mask for a moment, so that she might trust the pronouncement. She swallowed thickly.

"You're not supposed to die for me." She croaked, clearing her throat the next minute. "You're one of my people, it's my job to keep you safe."

"Ah." He murmured, and he stayed observing her for several very long seconds. "Yes, well, I can assure you that these bursts of intense loyalty and protectiveness will be few and far between. You don't usually need my assistance in a fight." She ignored his glib promise, instead posing the last question that had filled her buzzing mind.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His eyebrows rose.

"About beating up Garrett? Lisbon, I only mentioned tackling the guy and you were practically in hysterics. Besides, we both know you prefer these confrontations brief and our interactions shallow. I was sparing you the worry, fear, and confusion."

"I don't want us to be shallow."

"No, you want to save me. I get it, futile an effort though it may be. Yet you want to do so only so long as you're kept out of it. You don't want to get too close. You refuse to acknowledge any emotions others might have for you because it complicates things. You've had enough complications in your life." She closed her eyes, scrubbing a hand over her face. "It's okay," He hastened to assure her, "I'm not the most emotionally intelligent either. Your avoidance defense mechanism works well for the both of us."

"You shouldn't have done it." She told him, arm falling to her side with a light thump. "It was dangerous and stupid."

"Don't forget reckless." He quipped. Lisbon shook her head tiredly.

"Jane…"

"I know, I know." He held his hands up in apology. "Tension headache." He leveled a stare at her. "But all your pontificating won't make me regret it." Her shoulders sagged suddenly.

"How am I supposed to stay mad at you when you use words like 'pontificate'?" Jane grinned brilliantly. Then, for a second, it wavered. With a new note of seriousness, he closed the meagre distance between them. Lisbon followed his movements warily, her mouth parting slightly as he inclined his head towards hers. She wasn't quite sure whether she was relieved or disappointed when his lips landed on her cheek. They lingered longer than was strictly necessary, his proximity disorienting yet somehow comforting. When he did pull away, she watched him with wide and distrustful eyes, her cheeks flaring with warmth. He maintained a small smile despite her unreceptive attitude.

"I meant that last text." He said in reply to the unspoken question between them. "I really am glad you aren't dead." She blinked rapidly, struggling for some response.

"I'm not planning on dying," She said finally, "not yet anyway." Both of them felt the wave of melancholy crash over them simultaneously. They knew firsthand that brave words meant nothing in the face of death. Still, Jane smiled at her assurance. Bowing her head, she muttered, "It's late. I ought to get going."

"You don't have to." He offered with a shrug. "There's a TV in the cabinet and I'm pretty sure I have some microwaveable popcorn from a few years back." She wet her lips.

"Thanks, but… I should really go home, we have to be at work tomorrow." He nodded at her feeble excuse, clearly grasping her need for space after this tumultuous episode. Lisbon headed for the door, casting him a last glance over her shoulder. "I'll see you in the morning." She told him.

"See you." He answered, the words oddly wistful. With an almost inaudible sigh, she walked out into the night.


End file.
